Hello Stranger!: the Alexandra Cabot Story
by jkrowling17
Summary: From "Ghost" onward. How does Alex deal with coming out of witness protection, and what is her relationship with detective Stabler? A/E for a change... R R, puleeze! **On Haitus**
1. Chapter 1: Breakdown

For a moment, it seemed everything had returned to normal. Liam Connors was away in prison, and I was free to abandon my facade as Emily and return to my life as Alexandra Cabot. Cragen told me not to meet in his office until after 7:30, but I hate taking orders so I arrived at the station at 7:00. Watching Olivia, Fin, and Munch enter the office carrying bottles of Champaign felt so surreal, almost as if I had never left. I wanted nothing more than to burst in to the office and celebrate with my old colleagues, but I decided that I would humor them and let myself be "surprised."

My almost trance-like spying was interrupted by the stern voice of the U.S Marshall assigned to protect me. "Alexandra, we need to talk," he said gravely, barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry," I replied quizzically, "Did I forget to sign the discharge paperwork?" "You and Antonio are being moved to a new identity. Liam Connors may be out of the picture, but Caesar Velez is still at large." "_Don't cry, not in front of him," _I willed. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. I began to struggle to catch my breath. "And if I refuse?" I asserted, mustering every last bit of the courtroom confidence and strength that once came so naturally to me. "Of course, it is your decision" the Marshall continued, "but Witness Protection is still the only way you can stay alive. If anything, things have only gotten more dangerous now that Velez knows you're alive." As much as I wanted to, as much as I needed to in order to protect what was left of my sanity, I could not argue with him. "Set it up" is all I could utter without shedding tears.

When I could contain my anger and sadness no longer, I excused myself to the restroom. After collapsing in a fit of rage and tears on the all-too-comfortable sofa, I splashed some cool water on my face and mentally prepared to break the bad news to the detectives who had been my friends and confidantes for as long as I could remember. As I stepped out of the restroom composed and began to walk down the hall, I nearly stopped dead in my tracks. I could have knocked Casey Novak out cold as she entered Cragen's office with Elliot's arm around her. "_That little bitch," _I thought, "_not only does she steal my job, but she steals Elliot too." _Once I got over the initial shock, I rationalized that Ms. Novak did not "steal" anything. Velez and his cartel lost me my job and my life. Elliot was a married man with strict Catholic morals, and would never have an affair with anyone. Most likely the gesture meant absolutely nothing. Soon, however, I could no longer rationalize away my emotions with logic and actualities. I felt out of control, as if I was slipping away. "We have your new identity in processing, Ms. Cabot. The flight to Sacramento leaves at midnight," the Marshall reported very warmly but matter-of-factly. "You have some time to say good-bye, but be cautious who you speak to." I wanted so much to tell Olivia, Fin, Munch, and Captain Cragen how much their support and friendship had meant to me. I wanted to tell Ms. Novak to go screw herself. Most of all, I wanted to tell Elliot how I really felt about him. "No, I'm all set to go," I said quietly, holding back tears. "Just please tell everyone in Captain Cragen's office what happened and that I said goodbye."

As I re-packed my bags and loaded them into the Marshalls' black SUV, I stood dumfounded at how, in such a short time, my life could make a complete 360o. I had lost my second life to return where I belonged. Now I was where I began the day after I was shot: no friends, no home, no job, and no security. From all this confusion only one thing was certain: my nightmare was far from over.


	2. Chapter 2: Return to Normalcy

Within twenty-four hours, the WPP had given me a new identity, Julia Parsons, relocated me to Sacramento, and placed me in a new residence. The medium sized ranch house was every little girl's dream home. Its soft yellow color with its complimentary green shutters and matching garage shed gave off a rustic middle-class vibe. It was set relatively far back from the street and had a beautiful well-manicured lawn. I hatedof it! The only place I would feel at home, the only place I felt I could bear to live anymore, was in my cozy one-bedroom apartment back in New York. I brought in my things, or at least as much of them as possible, took a shower, and went to bed. It was early, only about 10:30 pm or so, but the anger, sadness, and helplessness were more exhausting than I can describe. As tired as I was, it was almost 1:00 am before I officially gave up on sleep and spent the remaining hours of the night and early morning watching the shadows of the trees dance across my bedroom walls.

After about a week of settling in, I was able to find a job as an attorney for a personal injury firm. My boss, Mr. O'Neill, was the epitome of a sleazebag, but the other attorneys were kind enough and the pay was more than adequate. I could never get used to it, though. Ever since I was in fifth grade doing mock trials in class, I knew one truth: I was prosecutor in and out. Going to law school only made me surer of that, and I realized now more than ever that I could never de-program or "relocate" that part of myself away. Personal injury certainly had its share of 'interesting' moments, but it lacked the challenge and gravity that attracted me to criminal law in the first place. I told my co-workers I came from Ottawa, Canada, and succeeded for the most part in deflecting any lengthy conversations about my past or otherwise without arousing suspicion. This time, as difficult as it was, I was going to be more careful. I interacted with those around me just enough to seem social and 'normal,' but I made sure to avoid emotional bonds. I thought becoming close with those around me in Wisconsin would help me combat the loneliness, but it only caused me to mourn two lives lost. Especially after this last experience with Witness Protection, it was extremely clear that everything - connections, homes, even my own name – was disposable.

Life as Julia Parsons was starting to become bearable after a time. She wasn't Alex; rather she was only the shell of her. Still, there was a growing familiarity developing that I yearned for. I was starting to get used to my neighbors and the people I worked with, but they weren't Captain Cragen. They weren't Olivia. They weren't Fin or Munch. Especially, they weren't Elliot. One of the major reasons I could handle this quasi existence was because I never allowed myself to contemplate that the arrangement would be permanent. Julia Parsons, as much as she was more soft-spoken, as much as she was less opinionated, as much as she was less of a hot-head, was, in my humble opinion, not half the woman Alexandra was. It came not as a shock so much as a long-awaited event then, like getting the guilty verdict after a difficult trial, when the U.S Marshall Mary Shannon appeared on my front door.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Parsons. I have some things to discuss with you. May I come in?" Inspector Shannon said, very matter-of-factly. "Of course," I replied, rather nervously, "Is everything ok?" "We've confirmed that Liam Connors has been extradited to Ireland, and that Caesar Velez has been dealt with by the proper authorities," continued Inspector Shannon, "If you're ready, we've determined that it's safe for you to return to your life as Alexandra Cabot." I felt happy, relieved, and completely overwhelmed. I tried to will myself not to cry, but this time it did no good. I began wiping the tears of joy and relief from my eyes, trying to save whatever dignity I had left, when Inspector Shannon chimed in, smiling, with "I'll take that as a yes, then?"

"We will never appreciate water until the well has run dry." I never understood the enormous truth of this until I came back to Manhattan. On my first day back, I went jogging on my regular path through Central Park. I went to all my favorite coffee shops, restaurants, and bakeries. I visited some of my favorite museums and some I had passed but never had the time to check out. I even took a Duck Tour of the city. I had planned to visit my old unit, my old family, and even began traveling in that direction but then thought better of it. _I really ought to call them first, before I just show up_, I rationalized to myself. I knew deep down, however, that I was avoiding the visit because I was worried about opening up old wounds, not to avoid an awkward situation.

I was absolutely ecstatic that I was able to regain my old apartment! It was just my luck that the current tenant was moving out and my former landlord adored me for always paying my rent on time. Next task: getting back on the front line as a 1st rate prosecutor. I was waiting to talk with Branch outside his office about being reinstated when, to my surprise, I saw the name "Jack McCoy" engraved on the D.A office door. "Hi, Jack," I said, somewhat surprised when he came to the door," I didn't realize you'd been appointed as D.A. Congratulations!" "Thank you, Alex. I'm glad to see you're back," McCoy replied in his characteristically kind-but-matter-of-fact way, "Now, I assume you're here regarding appointment in the D.A's office? We have a Bureau Chief position open, or I can instate Casey Novak in that position and allow you to resume your job as the district attorney for the SVU." Initially, I was all-too-eager to resume my former job at the 1-6. I then thought about all the memories the unit held. How Olivia was there when I was shot. How much Cragen seemed more like a father than a boss. How much I enjoyed Munch's conspiracy theories and his back-and-forth banter with Fin. How much I loved Elliot, more than I cared to admit. I realized I was nowhere near ready to rejoin my old unit. I would certainly call them once I had time to readjust to my old life and heal. "I think I could use the change, if it's all the same for the office," I said as nonchalantly as I could. "Great. I think you'll like the bureau. They're all very young, but they've certainly got potential. They're very passionate, not much unlike you at that age." "Thanks, Jack," I said, "I'll see you Monday." I walked out of the office feeling exhilarated at the new opportunity presented before me, but slightly guilty and worried that I had made the wrong decision.


	3. Chapter 3: New Life, Old Fears

The next three years as Bureau Chief were certainly a challenge, to say the least. Just as McCoy stated, the bureau I was in charge of was young, but I didn't expect the majority of them to be under 28. Some were even right out of clerking positions. I almost envied their innocent, I'm-going-to-take-on-the-world-through-law naiveté, and thought back to when that exact sentiment drove me to become a prosecutor. I was impressed by the talent of these up-and-comers, yet at times baffled by their foolishness the very next second. For a while, I was bombarded with messages from my former unit every day, wishing me well and wanting to go out for coffee like old times. I would receive calls from Olivia and Elliot, followed by periodic calls from Munch, Fin, and Cragen. Even Novak called me once, probably to be polite. As pathetic as it was, I could never bring myself to return their calls. Every time I would think "_this is it; I'm going to face the skeletons in the closet_." But I never could bring myself to do it, and would instead rationalize that I was too busy at any given time. Eventually, their calls came less and less frequently and finally stopped altogether. While I had planned to return their calls when I would be able to face what happened to me, the longer they were left unanswered the harder and less plausible it seemed to return them. Eventually, I began to put the memories with my old squad in a neat, tidy emotional compartment and store them away like a box in an attic. I could never completely forget them, even if I wanted to, but as time went on it got easier to cope with day to day life, and I was no longer dwelling on my guilt for not contacting them.

One cool March morning I was sitting in my office attempting to start my day, drinking a coffee and glancing over the mounds of paperwork my bureau expected me magically to eradicate. I began to lose myself in this wonderfully mundane work when my productive trance was broken by my secretary's somewhat annoying but musical voice. "Good morning, Ms. Cabot. Jack McCoy called maybe twenty minutes before you came in. He asked to see you in his office as soon as possible." "Thanks, Gina," I replied as I grabbed my coffee to-go and headed to McCoy's office to discuss God-knew-what. When I arrived, I was somewhat surprised to see that he was not alone. A tall, brunette woman with her arms crossed over her chest and deplorable posture was in the corner, looking somewhat benevolent. I could not decide right then, but she was either majorly pissed off or this was her normal aura. Almost as if sensing the impending "who the hell are _you?"_ on my lips, McCoy introduced the women as Kim Greyleck. "Kim is currently in charge of SVU. However, she's been temporarily reassigned to the Justice Department effective immediately." "Wasn't Casey Novak in charge of SVU?" I questioned aloud, thinking to myself that at least Greyleck was more experienced and better equipped for SVU than Novak if the Justice Department had hired her. Perhaps she wasn't really as petulant as she appeared. "You mean you don't know?" Greyleck answered, half amused and half exasperated, "You didn't get out of witness protection that recently. Novak got disbarred after she lied to a judge about some lab test." Apparently, the Justice Department was wrong with who they hired. Dead wrong. Ms. Greyleck reminded me very much of my sixteen-year old niece relaying the latest gossip from _People_ magazine. "Actually no, I hadn't heard," I replied, somewhat exasperated, "but, did you hear about Chris Brown's domestic violence incident with Rihanna?" I continued, trying my best to emulate her _One Tree Hill_ teenager tone. "As Bureau Chief, I honestly don't have time to keep up with frivolous gossip," I continued as emotionlessly as possible. Surprisingly, I felt bad for Ms. Novak. Looking back with a then cooler head, she wasn't as bad as I thought. She seemed nice enough, and she did get Liam Connors on all counts. Greyleck on the other hand was a total prick. _The squad must really hate her,_ I thought.

After a few moments of silence during which Greyleck stared at me with unmistakable "ice eyes" (which I do better, by the way), McCoy interrupted the awkwardness, asking me whether I would be willing to temporarily reside over my old squad. "Of course, it would not be for long. Only six months," McCoy reassured, almost sensing my objection. Initially, I felt like my heart had skipped a beat. Once I quashed the initial shock, I considered making some excuse, like I was too busy or had a particularly tough case to supervise. After thinking it over, though, I realized I may never have another opportunity to reconnect with all my old friends again. I needed to face my demons, once and for all. Besides, a six month temp who had no idea how to handle live victims would _never_ fly with my favorite detectives. "I'd be happy to fill in. When do I start?" I responded with just the right amount of enthusiasm to hide the butterflies in my stomach. "Your detectives are waiting for you at a crime scene as we speak. Apparently, a convicted child molester who brought suit against the department ended up murdered," McCoy replied. After I got the address from Greyleck, I left McCoy's office and began the nerve-racking drive to my old life waiting for me at the home of the late Dr. Keppler. I knew they would all be rightfully angry that I never returned their calls. They would probably be shocked to see me. As unrealistic as it was, I hoped that Olivia, Cragen, Fin, Munch, and especially Elliot could bring themselves to forgive me, and things could go back to normal between us. I thought back to the good times between us and realized that my hope alone could not bring them back again.


	4. Chapter 4: Old Feelings Die Hard

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, though I wish I did…Read and review, pretty please? ___

I didn't exactly win my first trial back with SVU, but it sure as hell felt like I did. As is occasionally the situation with these cases, I was actually glad things did not go according to my initial plan. I wasn't brimming with satisfaction, though. The defendant was clearly incompetent to stand trial, and I was so gung-ho I almost didn't see it. Worse, I realized, I saw it but just didn't care. As I was leaving the court house once the verdict was delivered, Elliot invited me for celebratory drinks with him and Olivia. It seemed abrupt considering how things between the three of us had been strictly professional since I'd been back, but I was looking forward to relaxing and reconnecting with my former friends. Olivia and Elliot drove the dark sedan they used for work, and I took my own blue Honda. They arrived a few minutes ahead of me and were already seated when I pulled in to the small parking lot of O'Malley's bar.

Before Witness Protection, I secretly disliked O'Malley's. With its smoky atmosphere and loud, boisterous patrons, it more often than not left me with a splitting headache. I always went, though, because talking with Olivia and Elliot was the perfect way to take my mind off the daunting and often heartbreaking cases we investigated and tried. Besides, I probably would have gone anywhere Elliot invited me. Now I realized how much I missed O'Malley's, and the smoke and noise rather than turning me away actually added to its charm. As I was taking in the all-too-familiar atmosphere, I heard a "hey, counselor!" from across the room and saw Elliot and Olivia waving me to their table. I quickly sat down and ordered myself a martini. We talked and laughed, and I was amazed at how much it felt like old times. We discussed politics, the terrible economy, even the latest episodes of "House," but left work out of the conversation. Unless it was necessary for our mental health to discuss a case over drinks, we tried to leave the work at work and unwind after hours. About twenty minutes into our evening, Olivia's old college friend Michelle called on her cell phone, tearfully explaining that her mother had just passed away in her nursing home's Alzheimer unit. "I'm sorry to leave you guys so soon," Olivia explained, her voice brimming with compassion, "but Michelle is taking this incredibly hard. I had better be there for her." I was always amazed by Olivia's empathy, and I could tell that her friend's pain was difficult for her. Elliot and I got up to leave when Olivia interjected. "No, no, you guys stay," she gently pleaded, "Have another drink on me, and I'll see you guys at work." At that, he and I sat back down and ordered another round, Elliot ordering another beer and I another martini.

At first, neither Elliot nor I spoke, and we began sipping our fresh drinks in silence. After this became too uncomfortable for either of us to bear, Elliot started the conversation again, asking how my time as Bureau Chief was going. "It's very busy, but I enjoy the challenge," I replied, "It's certainly not as…eventful…as this job, though." After another brief silence, I asked the question that had been on my mind since I found out I was returning to the 1-6. "So, I heard you guys got a new ADA. Kim Greyleck, right?" I asked, very nonchalantly, "How is she working out?" Elliot laughed, and then replied very sarcastically, "Have you met her?" "Ah, I see," I replied laughing, glad that I wasn't the only one whom she rubbed the wrong way, "I met her once, but I thought she was just having an off day." "Ah, nope, that's Kim. You know that lawsuit Dr. Keppler brought against the department?" Elliot asked, still jovially. "Yeah, that waste of paper Lionel Granger pulled out of his ass?" I replied, recalling how ridiculous it was. "Well, Greyleck didn't exactly have _that _response. Without even looking at the lawsuit, she asked us 'What the hell did you people do?'" At that, Elliot and I erupted into a fit of laughter until we could barely breathe. Once we regained our composure, our eyes gravitated towards each other's in silence, both pretending it was involuntary. After taking a few moments to lose myself in his gorgeous blue eyes, I dared to speak again. "Look, Elliot," I said tentatively, "I'm sorry I never returned your calls." I wasn't used to expressing how I felt, but Elliot somehow made my emotions flow naturally. "You don't need to apologize," Elliot interjected with an intense sincerity that made me melt. "I shouldn't have made you feel guilty about the whole thing. I'm just glad you're back, alive and well," he finished, putting his hand on my shoulder for a moment, maybe two. I nodded in affirmation, and we continued discussing miscellaneous topics, staying far longer than either of us had planned.

"I'd better get going. Diaper Duty," he said finally after perhaps another two hours, flashing me his famous full-tooth smile. We were walking out of the bar, still chatting jovially, when Elliot realized that Olivia had taken the car. "You need a ride, El?" I asked, partly hoping he would accept, partly _afraid_ of him accepting. "Nah. I'll just catch a cab," he replied after a long pause. "Alright then. I'll see you in the office," I replied, trying not to show my mix of relief and disappointment. As I turned away to walk to my own car, Elliot gently grabbed my hand and pulled me into a tight embrace. It was only for a short time, but I had never felt safer, more exhilarated, or happier than in that moment. As we separated, our eyes met and he placed his hands on my arms, and, perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but I felt sure he was going to kiss me. He abruptly averted his eyes, though, and turning to walk away only gave a quick, "Bye, Alex." I continued to walk to my car, trying to avert my eyes but, almost involuntarily, watching Elliot furtively as he walked the opposite way. Trying to hide the flood of emotions under my cool-as-ice demeanor was no longer working once I began the drive home, and my mind began considering, analyzing, evaluating the events of the evening. Once I arrived back at my apartment, I collapsed on my bed and tried to force my mind to stop racing with thoughts about Elliot, thoughts about what we could be, to no avail.


	5. Chapter 5: Electricity

_Disclaimer: I, again sadly, do not own SVU. PLLEEAASSEE R+R, Thanks!_

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and soon things between the detectives and I almost returned to normal. It was clear from the beginning that I was different; we were all different. Still, however, I could tell what they were thinking without them saying a word. Still, Olivia and Elliot were the only two people who were not fooled by my "ice-queen" demeanor. Still, Elliot could make my temper rise, my nerves calm, or my heart skip a beat like no one else. As much as I told myself I was simply a "temp," the familiar feeling that _this_ was where I belonged overwhelmed me. I almost thought to speak with Jack McCoy about making the arrangement permanent, but felt that it would be inappropriate considering I _chose_ the position of bureau chief. _Hopefully, _I thought, _my suspicions about Greyleck are correct, and she won't last through the year._ _Then, it would be only logical for McCoy to reinstate me on a permanent basis. _I hated succumbing to wishful thinking, but after everything I had been through I realized optimism was the one thing no one could take away.

It was a cool, stormy May afternoon, and I was sitting in my office looking over case files while listening to the thunder and the raindrops cascade across the roof. Lost in a trance of paperwork, I jumped about a mile when I heard a knock on my door. "Come in," I said, still slightly amused with how easily I startled. "Hey there, counselor," said Elliot as he walked in, flashing me a smile that just about made me melt. "Hey, Elliot," I said kindly while trying to hide how happy I was that he was here, "what are you doing here?" "We need a warrant for the Giselle case. We tried calling your office, but _someone_ didn't pick up!" he replied jovially, mocking exacerbation. "Sorry!" I apologized, "I guess the storm must have knocked out the phone lines. My cell lost its signal a while ago." After quickly checking my office phone and confirming that it, indeed, lost its dial tone, I took the Giselle file from Elliot. "Sorry Elliot, this doesn't give me probable cause. Do you have anything else?" I asked as I examined the file. "We have his fingerprints at the scene, what else do we need?" Elliot replied, rather annoyed. "He works at the school Tracey was abducted from, so from where I stand a whole hell of a lot," I replied, trying to coat my mounting aggravation, "Every male worker in the school has fingerprints there. No judge is going to issue a warrant based on such weak evidence." "Look, Alex," he continued, now almost pleading, "If we can get into his apartment, we'll find where he's keeping the girl in Jersey and evidence to tie him to other abductions." "I don't doubt that, Elliot," I replied, my voice mixing compassion and aggravation, "but none of that is enough for a warrant." "What do you propose we do, counselor. We don't have any further evidence until we get inside that apartment," replied Elliot, now clearly angry. "How about you do your job, detective," I said, my anger nearly matching his, "I can't find your evidence for you." "I do _my _job," Elliot replied with a note of angry incredulousness, "we've gotten warrants based on _far_ less." "Well I'm sorry, Elliot, I'm not your _precious_ Casey Novak," I nearly yelled, "but I for one don't go on fishing expeditions. I prefer warrants and evidence that _stand up in Court_." With that, Elliot stormed out of my office, and I sat down and again focused on my case files, silently willing myself not to cry.

At around 9:00 that evening, I finally left my office and made my way home. I took a shower, put on a tank top and sweat pants, and sat down and watched television for the first time in a week. I usually don't have the time for TV, but on Friday nights I force myself to relax for my sanity's sake. Around 11:30, in the middle of my TiVo marathon consisting of _Grey's Anatomy _and _Boston Legal_, the apartment buzzer rang and pulled me from my television coma. "Who is it?" I spoke into the metal intercom. "Elliot," I heard in a cool monotone, "Can I come up?" Instantly, the anger and frustration I had been trying to suppress all day came to the surface, and I debated making some excuse why he couldn't come up. "If you must," I finally answered, managing to stay cool and collected. I wrapped a sweater over my tank top, pulled my wet hair into a messy bun, and put on a thin coat of sheer red lip balm in a last ditch effort to look somewhat decent. I heard the expected knock on my door a few moments later, and my heart skipped a beat as I went to let him in.

"Hey, Alex," Elliot said once I unlatched the five or six bolts and finally managed to get the door open, flashing me a perfect, full-toothed smile. "Elliot," I replied, trying to stay emotionless, but failing in suppressing a weak smile, "Come in." We walked into the living room, where _Grey's _was still playing, and he took a seat on the couch. "I didn't peg you as a melodrama fan," Elliot laughed after recognizing the show, probably thanks to his teenage daughters. "I assume you didn't come here to discuss the happenings of Seattle-Grace Hospital," I mused as I sat on the adjacent couch, feigning annoyance and keeping my demeanor as business-like and cool as possible, "I can't get you the search warrant, and I'm assuming you didn't come to futilely argue for it, so what else do you want?" "To apologize," Elliot said sheepishly after a few moments, finally abandoning his playful, nonchalant façade. "I told Liv what happened, and she rightfully chewed me out for how I treated you," he continued after placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, genuinely repentant, "I shouldn't take everything out on my co-workers, especially you." "I'm glad she gave you some perspective," I replied curtly, suddenly jealous of Olivia's singular ability to get through to Elliot. "I don't know what it is, Alex," Elliot continued after a short pause, "but I can _talk_ to you, you know. You're far enough away to be honest and objective, but close enough to…I don't know, _get it_. I think that's why we butt heads so much. We're too damn stubborn and open with each other." It was the most personal Elliot and I had ever been, and it made my anger from earlier melt away. "Stabler, you are too much," I said half-facetiously, shaking my head.

After a quick, friendly hug, Elliot and I talked and laughed, sharing a bag of Pop Secret and cool Bud Lights. Around two hours later, I noticed the time blinking from the cable box. _1:37 am. _It then registered that sometime during our private "party" of sorts Elliot had joined me on the larger sofa. "Anyway, Elliot, I'm going to hit the hay," I said at the next polite interval. My heart wished desperately for him to stay longer, but my head considered that an attractive, married man staying in my apartment much longer could have…adverse consequences. "Besides," I continued, feigning concern, "Kathy's probably worried sick!" "Yeah, you're probably right," said Elliot, with the slightest hint of disappointment, and then added with a laugh, "Sorry to monopolize your evening, counselor!" "Anytime, detective," I added, matching his jovial tone. I walked him to the door and began to unlatch the military-worthy locks, inspiring a chuckle from Elliot. Once the door opened, our eyes met, and I felt an electric charge run through me. Before I had time to mentally question whether Elliot felt the same jolt, the same chemistry, he wrapped me in an embrace and kissed me. It was the most passionate, wonderful kiss of my life, and my entire being screamed for more. "Might I get a tour of your bedroom?" Elliot asked, a mischievous smile appearing on his lips. At that, my brain and heart waged a half of a second civil war on each other. _He's married_, I thought, _I won't be responsible for breaking up a perfectly good, twenty year marriage and happy family. I love him,_ my heart persisted, _and if he was happy with his marriage, he wouldn't even be offering. _After responding with an "abso-freakin-lutely," Elliot and I made our way to my room, making out like infatuated teenagers.

_A/N: Sorry to disappoint, but I DON'T WRITE PORN…you'll have 2 use your imaginations ;-). Also, I'm probably going to wait a while for my next update…I've got SAT I's, SAT II's, and AP exams to study for!!! Plus, I want to see how things go on the show itself…Olivia's working for the defense soon and someone's going to die in the season finale (if it's Alex I'll die!!!). Plus, I want to see if Mariska and Chris renew their contracts (they'd BETTER) and if Stephanie March is going to stay on as a recurring star (she'd BETTER). But, who knows how the 'plot bunnies' will work! _


	6. Chapter 6: ANSong

_A/N: Thanks soo much for the reviews! This isn't an 'update' per say, just a note to let you know that I was freaking PISSED that Stephanie March wasn't in the last episode, "Crush." I'm eager to see how that will work itself out tomorrow during "Liberties," but her absence fits quite nicely into my next chapter. ;-) Anyway, I heard this song and I thought it fit the Elliot/Alex romance I built quite nicely, so tell me what you think. Thanks to Beyonce for being her amazing self and writing this song, lol!_

Remember those walls I built

Well, baby they're tumbling down

And they didn't even put up a fight

They didn't even make up a sound

I found a way to let you in

But I never really had a doubt

Standing in the light of your halo

I got my angel now

It's like I've been awakened

Every rule I had you breakin'

It's the risk that I'm takin'

I ain't never gonna shut you out

Everywhere I'm looking now

I'm surrounded by your embrace

Baby I can see your halo

You know you're my saving grace

You're everything I need and more

It's written all over your face

Baby I can feel your halo

Pray it won't fade away

I can feel your halo halo halo

I can see your halo halo halo

I can feel your halo halo halo

I can see your halo halo halo

Hit me like a ray of sun

Burning through my darkest night

You're the only one that I want

Think I'm addicted to your light

I swore I'd never fall again

But this don't even feel like falling

Gravity can't forget

To pull me back to the ground again

Feels like I've been awakened

Every rule I had you breakin'

The risk that I'm takin'

I'm never gonna shut you out

Everywhere I'm looking now

I'm surrounded by your embrace

Baby I can see your halo

You know you're my saving grace

You're everything I need and more

It's written all over your face

Baby I can feel your halo

Pray it won't fade away

I can feel your halo halo halo

I can see your halo halo halo

I can feel your halo halo halo

I can see your halo halo halo

I can feel your halo halo halo

I can see your halo halo halo

I can feel your halo halo halo

I can see your halo halo halo

Halo, halo

Everywhere I'm looking now

I'm surrounded by your embrace

Baby I can see your halo

You know you're my saving grace

You're everything I need and more

It's written all over your face

Baby I can feel your halo

Pray it won't fade away

I can feel your halo halo halo

I can see your halo halo halo

I can feel your halo halo halo

I can see your halo halo halo

I can feel your halo halo halo

I can see your halo halo halo

I can feel your halo halo halo

I can see your halo halo halo


	7. Chapter 7: Crash

_A/N: Sorry it took so long for an actual update! I wanted to see how canon/ situation with actors' contracts/ the finale death went before committing anywhere w/ the story. Unfortunately, Alex was REALLY only there nominally, ending the sad story arc with 'stuck in traffic,' so I didn't have as many cool ideas as I'd like. Once I finally got some ideas, final exams came. Once they were done, plot bunnies vanished. Hopefully, now that I'm on summer vacation, I will update more frequently. Oh, almost forgot: NOT MINE. If they were, Alex and Elliot would have hooked up in canon :-)_

The next morning, I awoke more upset and distraught than I would like to admit. Sure, I had always wanted to sleep with Elliot – practically every woman I worked with shared the same sentiment and would have given anything to be in my position. Still, I couldn't get over the guilt. I'd had one night stands before, but never with a married man, and certainly not one with four children. I tried to rationalize that it was juvenile and naïve to get so sentimental over the whole thing. It was just sex, after all…wasn't it?

The rest of the week consisted of Elliot and I effectively avoiding each other. I called Olivia to testify instead of Elliot whenever humanly possible, and when forced to interact it was cool, tort, and awkward. If the rest of the squad noticed anything out of the ordinary, they were certainly not eager to mention it. It helped I was never one for outwardly displaying my emotions, all-too-easily covering them with 'passion for my job' and logic.

By Friday evening, I was beyond ready to pack my attaché and make my way home for the weekend to give myself distance from the entire situation, at least for a short while. As fate would have it, I had no such luck, as around 7:30 that evening I heard a knock on my office door.

"Elliot, hi" I managed to say as he came in, wishing myself to be anywhere but here.

"Alex, we need to talk," Elliot replied as he shut the door, a burning sincerity in his eyes.

"I really don't think there's anything to discuss," I replied as warmly as I could, lying through my teeth. When he didn't reply after a few seconds, I continued, "Look, what happened between us…it was nice, we both wanted it to happen, but it...was a mistake; it was late, we were both a little buzzed. Let's just forget it ever happened." I assumed this explanation, as heart wrenching as it was for me to reduce us to, was exactly what Elliot was about to say.

"Is that really all you thought this was?" Elliot replied, hurt showing behind the composed expression on his face.

_Of course not, you and I have something special; I'm falling in love with you so fast that it's scary _is the answer I longed to give him; the answer my heart formulated."For God sakes, Elliot, you're married! What more _could _this be?" was the response I was able to muster. As much as my heart refused to believe it, my head realized it was the truth.

"I suppose you're right," Elliot responded after a few moments of intense silence, "I'll see you Monday, counselor." With that, Elliot turned and went on his way, quietly shutting my office door on his way out.

"See you Monday, detective," I nearly whispered to the empty four walls of my office.

Before our encounter I had planned on staying for another hour or so to organize myself for the coming week, but right at that moment I simply needed to run, escape, and get the hell home. I gathered my pile of documents and managed to say a respectful "goodnight" to my clerk, grateful that the remainder of my co-workers wouldn't be caught dead at the office past five or six on a Friday. I even managed to stay composed in the car on the way home by some miracle. Perhaps I was even fooling myself with my emotional covers. Perhaps I was simply numb.

The moment I walked through my door, I kicked my too-expensive, too-high pumps off and literally collapsed on my sofa. I noted the tears coming down my face before I noted how empty and pathetic I felt. I tried to rationalize that it would never work between us, anyway. It was a well-known fact of life that married men almost never leave their wives for the 'other woman.' I couldn't believe the fact that I _was _'the other woman,' nor did I want to destroy the lives of his wife and kids. And, even if on some ridiculous, romantic notion he DID leave his wife, and his children WERE still happy and well-adjusted, we STILL would more than likely break up on our own, or be forced to break up by our bosses. Either way, sooner or later it would hurt. Better now than later, I supposed. Insomnia being a prerequisite for an ADA, it was nearly four in the morning before I finally succumbed to a fitful, tear-induced sleep.

_A/N: I know this chapter is sad…don't worry; I'm ALL about the happy endings!!! I hope to update very soon…reviews always have a way of making my creative juices flow more quickly, hint hint ;-) Oh, and I decided "Crush" didn't exist for the purposes of my story: Alex never left._


	8. Chapter 8: Realization

_A/N: So, I promised to update soon! Thanks for the reviews, by the way! They really do make my day! I should be starting to wrap up this story soon, though I'm not sure I can put a number on how many chapters I have left. I hope you enjoy!!!_

With less than four hours of sleep in my system, I forced myself out of bed around 8:30 for my usual morning run. There is something endlessly satisfying about running. I'm not sure if it's the dull, tired ache of my muscles that slowly starts to dissipate as I reach the next mile, or the jolt of adrenaline that comes from making it _that _much farther without stopping or slowing my gait, but it is the one time of day where I feel at peace and in-control. I can listen to Britney Spears' "Circus" and Flo Rida's "Right Round" on my iPod without worrying that my music choices seem juvenile or undignified. I can simply watch the world pass by, traveling too fast for any of it to catch up to me.

After about an hour, I left Central Park and headed back to my apartment, eager to take a shower and grab some breakfast and a coffee. Since I didn't have to be in court until Monday, I planned on laying low and catching up on some of my never-ending paperwork. _I have no life_, I quipped to myself, _it's Saturday and paperwork is the most exciting thing on my agenda_.

When I got to my apartment; however, I realized this plan was shot to hell:

"Dear Resident," the note plastered on my door read, "Termites have been found in the building. Nothing to be alarmed about, but we will need to fumigate this evening and into early Sunday morning. Your possessions are safe, but all inhabitants will need to find alternative accommodations for this evening after 4:00 pm until 9:00 am tomorrow morning. We apologize for the inconvenience, Management."

"SHIT!" I exclaim, the profanity escaping before I have a chance to gauge if I would wake anyone. After placing a call to my landlord to confirm that, indeed, this was not some bored teenager in the building playing a practical joke, I began to pack an overnight bag. _I love New York, I love New York, I love New York, _I affirm. I then debated where I would actually go. I could find a hotel for the night, but that would mean forking over an arm and a leg, which cash-wise I didn't exactly have, or settling for some dirty, sleazy motel. That's of course assuming by some miracle a Manhattan hotel has vacancy on less than a day's notice. I then decide to swallow my pride and pick up the phone to mooch off a friend, the slightly ruder but free alternative.

"Hey, Liv," over the phone as I now start to feel guilty for imposing, "How are you?"

"Hey, Alex," Olivia responded, "I'm good, you?"

"Just _fabulous_," I answersardonically, "My apartment's being 'fumigated,' so I'm basically being kicked out of my building for the night. Is there any way I could stay with you? I mean, if you're busy or don't have room I can always get a hotel or…"

"Don't be silly" Olivia said genuinely smiling, "Of course you can stay! My apartment's small, but it came with a private guest room that's never been used."

"You're sure now?" I reply, relaxed from her kind response.

"Absolutely," Olivia said, "We just got a new case an hour ago, so I'll probably be working late, but I'll call my super and have him let you in."

"Thank you so much Liv!" I exclaim, relieved that Olivia didn't seem to mind in the least, "You are a life-saver!"

I stayed in my apartment until around 4:00, just doing paperwork, when I heard the unmistakable noise of a truck pull up below my window, which I soon found out was the exterminator. I then packed my paperwork into my attaché and loaded my overnight bag into my car and headed to my office to finish up. By 7:00, my paperwork was miraculously done, and I decided to head to Olivia's apartment. My trusty GPS guiding my way, I found it in no time, and true to her word, Olivia's super was expecting me and let me in. Once I allowed myself to sit down on her sofa, it registered that the apartment fiasco nearly made me forget about the Elliot fiasco. If there is a God, he sure has a wicked sense of humor.

Two hours later, Olivia entered, looking completely exhausted. I could tell from the expression on her face that this was _not _going to be a case I would look forward to prosecuting.

"Hey Alex," Olivia said, a kind note overcoming the apparent frustration and exhaustion of the day, "I really don't feel like going to bed just yet. Want to watch a movie?"

"Love to," I responded, not even bothering to ask how her day went. It was written all over her face.

About halfway through "Legally Blonde," needless to say one of my favorites because of my blonde lawyer status, Olivia and I turned our attention from the movie and ended up in a long "girl-talk" session. Talking and laughing jovially, it struck me odd when Olivia became somewhat quiet and serious, as if she were mulling something over.

"Alex, could I get your advice on something?" Olivia finally said.

"Sure, ask away," I responded, trying to hide my surprise.

"Do you know any good divorce lawyers?" she responded, surprise present on my face for a full few seconds before I could restrain myself.

"Not off the top of my head, but I can certainly gather some names easily enough," I responded skeptically, and in an attempt to lighten the mood, added facetiously, "Didn't realize you were married, detective; now you're divorcing?"

"Believe me, if I _did _get married, you'd be one of the first to know!" Olivia said with a jovial eye-roll in response to my lame joke, "In all seriousness, I'm worried about Elliot. He doesn't seem to be getting any good advice from that sleazebag he hired."

The words hit me like a ton of bricks. With every fiber of my being, I hoped and prayed that our 'mistake' hadn't caused this. In that moment, the guilt, lust, disappointment, sadness I had _just _barely overcome all washed over me. It was almost too much for me to bear. Miraculously, I managed to put on an expression of appropriate concern and curiosity.

"I didn't realize he was getting divorced," I replied once my voice returned, "What happened?"

"The job," Olivia answered, very matter-of-factly, yet with compassion, "They just grew apart. They almost divorced a couple years ago, but then Kathy had Eli. They tried to hold it together, but around two months ago they finally realized it was for the best."

I nearly wanted to break down and cry. Elliot didn't deserve this. He deserved the perfect family, perfect wife. A large part of me was beyond relieved I hadn't caused this. Part of me was upset he hadn't told me, but part of me realized he had no real reason to. I never told any of my old squad I left witness protection, for God's sakes. I shouldn't exactly be insulted to be left out of the loop.

"How are his kids holding up?" I asked, not needing to fake my concern.

"It's been tough on them," she answered honestly, "but they seem to see the necessity of it. They're good kids, they'll be ok."

"How's Elliot taking it?"

"As well as can be expected," Olivia replied, her sullen expression showing how much she cared for him, "Better than last time, though. Not that that says much…"

At my silence, she continued, trying to lighten the mood, "Of course, the rumor around the office is that he and I had an affair; totally ridiculous!"

"Well, not totally," I replied, trying to defend my actions, "I mean, that sort of thing happens, and you know the unfailing reliability of the office rumor mill."

"I guess so," Olivia replied, now somewhat more jovially, "It's just El and I; it'd be like brother and sister. There's no way we'd have that kind of relationship."

When I didn't reply, Olivia added, "Besides, he's into blondes," and nudged me with her elbow.

After my heart returned to my chest, I replied, trying to cover my momentary lapse in cool. "What? Me?" I fake-but-convincingly laughed, "I…don't think so."

"Well, he hasn't shut up about you since you came back working for us," Olivia replied, and I could tell she was only being half-facetious.

After forcing a laugh, I casually changed the topic at the nearest possible, non-awkward interval, and Olivia and I finished the movie again just chatting casually. Of course, I couldn't stop thinking about her words. _He hasn't shut up about you_…

Once I put my pajamas on and went into the oh-so-comfortable guest bed, my mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of Elliot. On the one hand, I felt far more confident knowing that I wouldn't be the other woman screwing up his 'perfect' marriage. My head allowed me to at least _consider _the possibility of an actual relationship. On the other hand, I probably already royally screwed up anything we could have possibly been. Either way, I knew that if Elliot and I could ever be something, I could no longer rationalize us away. I had to face my fears, face all my demons, once and for all, and just _go _for it. Whether or not I could actually _do _this, now that is another matter entirely.

_A/N: Thanks for reading :-) now, I KNOW you want to review, right ;-) Believe me, they have a funny, funny way of making me update faster!_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Sorry for the ENORMOUSLY long time between updates! I've been working on my college applications, and have also been suffering from immense writer's block. ALEX IS COMING BACK IN THREE DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 10 EPPY ARC at least_ YAHHOOOOOO_! Here's hoping she stays on permanently. She belongs in the regular credits, not as a "special guest star!"_

As I said before_, _I love to run. It's easier than staying and dealing with your feelings; it's easier to make a fresh start and forget the past. It's far easier than sorting through the mush that is the relationship between Elliot and me, that's for sure. I like to think I have one iota of bravery or courage. I'd like to think I'm mature and rational enough to deal with my emotions and not let them run my life. But, alas, when fight or flight kicks in, flight is invariably what I choose.

Albany, New York seemed nice. Sonya Paxton, the ADA working appeals up there who I spoke with, was eager for the change in scenery and lord knows I was as well. I debated calling the precinct and making some half-assed excuse for why I was moving, but I couldn't think of anything that would not sound like a cop-out; because it _was _a cop-out. Instead, I called up a friend, ADA Torres, to arraign what should have been _my _defendant, a man who killed a woman in Central Park. I found out later she, not knowing what to say, told the court I was stuck in traffic. While she was there, I was busy packing my things for yet another move. I kept telling myself this move was different - it was voluntary, after all. Still, I felt all the same wounds and the same sense of nostalgia.

After what seemed like forever and a day, I and my moving van arrived at a small apartment house in Albany. It was urban, but it wasn't Manhattan. It didn't have the hustle-and-bustle, the rush I so crave. Perhaps it would do me some good. Once I got settled in, Ms. Paxton and I had lunch at a local restaurant she recommended. We exchanged case notes and got to know each other at least a little bit. I thought she consumed quite a bit of wine for noontime, but she was far from intoxicated and I didn't think anything of it at the time.

Looking over her cases – well, my cases -, the majority of them seemed like slam dunks, which I was relieved to see. A few defendants were claiming they were convicted because of racial prejudice, quite a few claims of improper police procedure, but the evidence was mostly rock solid. Once I was finished doing some baseline work in preparation of my first day, I braved myself to check my email. I had a few emails from Olivia – mostly forwards of funny messages we send back and forth, some making sure I was ok, since I didn't show up after I was "stuck in traffic." I slowly began to compose an email to everyone in the unit, explaining where I moved and telling them I was working out some lingering issues from WPP (which I suppose wasn't _entirely_ a lie). Even as a little kid, I'd much rather write out difficult emotions than speak them. After finishing it, however; I lost the will to send it, but I didn't quite have the heart to erase it. Instead, I saved it in "drafts" and promised myself I would send it when I felt ready. I already half-knew I would probably never send it. I _fully_ knew that they wouldn't find out the news from me; the squad would find out when Sonya met them, more than likely. Somehow, I liked it better that way.

The pace of appeals is quieter, slightly more relaxed, but not much. It's the same heartbreak; you still never win, even if they the jury find the defendant guilty. The victim never gets justice, even if the perp goes to jail. True justice would be for the crime to be erased, to cease to exist for the victim. Though, it felt nice to start over, where no-one knew my history; where I could be _myself,_ but at the same time be anonymous, have a fresh start. It was voluntary Witness Protection. I kept my _name_ but lost my identity. But this time, I'm not so sure I didn't want that.

The life expectancy of an ADA, or any employee, in the special victims unit is unreasonably short. Even by our standards, a month is a rather short time for burn-out, though. I was absolutely shocked then when Jack McCoy called my office in Albany, asking me to come back to my old position, temporarily with the potential of permanence. Of course, I naturally assumed Ms. Paxton quit, but was even the more surprised when I found out she entered court-ordered rehab for alcoholism. I was further dumb-founded still when I heard the reason for this rehab was entering court forty-five minutes late, drunk as a skunk. Kindly thanking him for the offer, but declaring I would have to think on it, I hung up the phone and began intense deliberation.

For the first time in memory, I had not even the criteria to make a decision. I had no idea whether I had the strength to deal with a newly-single, recently-divorced Elliot whom I had hurt with my callous comments, and whom I loved. I had no idea whether I could own up for disappearing without telling anyone yet AGAIN. Although it was only 9:00 (which I consider ludicrously early due to my chronic insomnia since first working with SVU), I was so exhausted that rather than continue working on cases to distract myself, I went to bed, falling into an uneasy, fitful sleep.

_A/N: So, hope you enjoyed! I can't promise, but I will try to make the next update relatively soon. I have some really cool ideas rattling around in my head, and I'll definitely have some awesome direction once I see Alex's return on Wednesday! Right now, I'm looking to get the next chapter written by the end of next weekend. _


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